Fed Up
by Mcube
Summary: He's pushed her, she's pushed back. Finally she had enough. End of the world or not, she's done, he's kicked to the curb. Takes place during "The 3 Years". This isn't a how they get together story; this is an everyday life drama. You know they're going to get together, but we were left with so many gaps to fill. Some may find it mildly AU. Rated M for adult language, and situations
1. Chapter 1

**Inspired by the song, "When a Woman's Fed Up" by R Kelly but I won't put any lyrics here. Please give it a listen; I posted the link on my profile. **

**This looks to be a three chapter gig - enjoy.**

**I don't own Dragon Ball(Z) and I am not making money off of this.**

* * *

A door ripped from its hinges and flew three quarters of the way across the room to land between an arm chair and the sliding glass door. Vegeta stormed in behind the door and headed directly for his dresser. One by one, he dumped the contents of the dresser drawers onto his bed. After he emptied the bottom drawer, he stood back. Lying before him on the bed were his belongings, he had never in his life had this much to call his own. He didn't even pull out the things in his closet yet. What happened to him? How had he become so "domesticated"?

He pulled the seven or eight things out of his closet, ripped them from their hangers and threw them on the bed with everything else. Haphazardly, and quite unlike him, he bundled everything into a loosely coagulated pile and encapsulated them in a No. 9 capsule. Why was he even taking these things? Dammit, they were his, and he was taking them! He turned toward his bathroom, _**his**_ bathroom, and decided that he was going to take the hygiene products that she bought for him too.

Dr. Brief peered around the shattered door jamb, looking for his uptight young house guest. From the bathroom he heard bottles being thrown into the porcelain sink. The old scientist winced, knowing that he was going to have to replace the sink _and_ the door before Vegeta returned. Hopefully when he returned, though, he'd be in another room. He knew what was happening, it's not like he and Bunny hadn't heard the whole thing from the great room downstairs. Hell, Bunny had only stopped crying long enough to bake a batch of cookies.

Vegeta felt his guest's energy from the bathroom, the old man had a surprisingly high energy level, it must have something to do with his genius.

"What is it old man?" he growled leaving the bathroom.

Doc let out a long breath, "Son, look, you don't have to leave, this _is_ my home after all…even if she forgets that sometimes"

"I've got my pride"

"That's an understatement. The missus and I, well, we were hoping that you two would work things out. You're good for my little girl; she's not an easy person. She needs a strong constitution to put up with her".

"You know my history old man, yet you still approve of me? I am not a saint like the weakling. As you daughter has told me on more than one occasion, I am nothing like him"

Dr. Brief studied the boy, "None of us know what we will do in the name of survival. It's not my place to judge you or anyone else for their actions in a situation that I can't begin to fathom. I know who you are now, and while I wish you would turn down the intensity every so often," he smirked, slightly fluffing his moustache, "you are a man I approve of".

Doc handed a larger capsule to Vegeta. "Vegeta, take this, it's an extended stay capsule, designed for use in field research. It's yours. I won't have you out there homeless, no matter what Bulma thinks she wants. You are welcome here, besides I think it will get boring with you gone, not to mention the mountains of food. Bunny will put out a capsule of food every night, next to the candle in the window sill". Vegeta shot the old man a quizzical look, "Old country tradition of hers, soldiers off to war and whatnot. If you need anything, contact me, son. Bulma need not know".

Vegeta rolled his new home around in his fingers. How had he lasted with her this long anyway?

_It was a long day, a damn long day. Usually, she would welcome the drive home on the days that she had to represent the family at Capsule HQ. Today, she was cold, the sky had been a dull winter gray since sunrise, and traffic was unforgiving. Life had been weighing heavy on her for days. She wasn't ready to take on the company yet, the end of the world was looming, and things between her and Vegeta had been tense. _

_Apprehension fell heavy when she got out of her car in the garage, and encapsulated it. Where were they going? Were they "_They_" at all? She didn't delude herself into thinking that they'd be warm-and-fuzzy, she had that with Yamcha, and it wasn't all that fulfilling._

_She reached her room with all the intention to wash the day away, but an angry Saiyan greeted her instead. _

"_What the fuck is this goddamned limiter that you installed on my GSR?" He didn't even give her time to kick off her shoes!_

"_The GSR belongs to me and the limiter is in place because your stubborn ass won't listen to me and keep the gravity to 450G"_

"_You will not suppress me woman, do you think that you can keep me from surpassing Kakarott? That's what you want isn't it, keep me as your lap dog?"_

"_That's right Vegeta you got me, I want you to be my subservient monkey, repress your power and keep you as my sex slave" The minute the words left her mouth, she wished that she could take them back. God, she sounded like Frieza, that must have hurt him. _

_He closed the space between them in maybe two paces, left hand grabbing her neck, right hand on her waist slamming her up against the back of the bedroom door. His breath inches from her face as he stared into her soul. She was scared; she hadn't been this afraid of him since Namek. Yeah, what she said was cruel, but was it worth this?_

"_You don't realize how lucky you are, woman. In the past I have taken great joy in killing for a lesser insult"_

_She quite suddenly became angry, she wasn't sure what triggered it but she wasn't going to take his shit anymore. He obviously didn't expect it when it happened, Bulma put all of her energy into a onetime shot, and she kicked him in the groin with more force than she even knew she had. _

_His agonizing howl was immediate, his grip loosened, and she dropped to the carpet. Before she could rise and run from the room Vegeta grabbed her by the shoulders and waist from behind, lifted her into the air and threw her across the room landing on the bed. _

_She backed up to the furthest corner of the bed, heart pounding. His look was murderous; this was a Vegeta she thought was dead and gone. He began to creep toward her on the bed. Tears of dread and fear began to flow freely, and she looked around in a panic for something to defend herself with. She grabbed a lamp off the night stand and launched it at his head. If he weren't a super alien, she would have made contact. She began to throw everything she could find, the remote, the bedside telephone, a book, her tablet, a glass ashtray. With the release of each thing in his direction Bulma felt her empowerment grow. She threw with frustration, anger and finality._

"_Get out, get out of my house, my life, and if you really want to do me a favor, get the hell off my planet! I've had it Vegeta, I'm sick of the emptiness, the disrespect, the THREATS, no more!" she wiped her hand defiantly across her face, "I've cried my last tear for you! You wanted tough ass warrior then fine; tough ass warrior bitch doesn't give a shit anymore!"_

"_Get this straight woman; I'm not your pussy ass weakling. If I leave this place you will never see me again'._

"_Do you see me stopping you, dick?"_

_Vegeta spun on his heel and headed straight for his room. Bulma sanctimoniously pulled herself up, jumped off the bed, and headed to her bathroom, for her long awaited bath. She'd deal with the hurt, if there was any, later._

She rolled over to look at the clock, it was still dark outside. The green/yellow glow assaulting her eyes told her it was 5:42. Why had she not thrown her clock at him? Ugh, she remembered the tablet that she _did_ throw at him; she'd have to pull the memory out and install it into another unit. She had been lying awake staring at the green glow reflected on her ceiling for at least an hour now, and she really had to pee. And, yep, there was the hurt that she had put off successfully with a bath and a bottle of Riesling.

She found herself wondering what he was doing, where he had gone, was he cold, "Stop It…Stop it...Stop it!"She smacked herself across the head several times. This was not the way she needed to "deal". Feeling like she was doing more harm than good, she got up and shuffled into the bathroom to shower and start her day.

After she dressed and fixed her face, she sifted the debris field around the floor of her room in search of her tablet. There it was, on the floor, half under a pillow, at the base of the closet door, which had a "tablet corner" sized dent in its surface.

As a bright young executive, Bulma had more to do than she had hours in the day. She was grateful for the freedom to be able to concentrate on actual Capsule Corp. technology. There were issues with R&D and marketing that came up in yesterday's meetings. She would be able to concentrate of those today too. By the time she reached her private lab, with her sickly tablet in hand, her mind was in genius mode. "Ha, screw him" she said out loud to no one. She didn't feel bad at all. With him gone, and no robots, or GSR, or "Woman fix this" to deal with, she might get something done today.

By 10 o'clock, R&D had six new proposals up for background research, and she had approved the sales forecasts that marketing and sales had sent her. Her poor tablet was resuscitated, and she was headed for coffee.

She sauntered into her lab with a fresh cup of Kona supreme, mixed with just the right amount of Hazelnut crème half and half, when she stubbed her toe on a discarded training bot too close to the door.

"Oww, goddamm… fuck…goddamm…shit!"She bounced delicately around her lab in pain, trying to keep from spilling her precious coffee. "Vegeta, you son of a bitch, why the fuck did…" She stopped herself remembering everything that had happened last night. "Shit, this day was going so well, too".

How had he become a part of her life like this? She shouldn't see him in things and feel his memory around her. They were too "new". They had only been at this for about a month. Her memories of Yamcha took so much longer to develop, and they didn't linger.

Bulma needed to talk to someone, female. Her mother was anything but a neutral party, Chichi didn't necessarily live in reality as far as relationships go. She had no real friends from work; they saw her as the "Boss-lady". That left only one option. She picked up her phone from the desk and hit the number.

"_Yeah wadduya want?"_

"Hey Launch," she was kind of relieved that blonde Launch answered, bluenette Launch may have been too forgiving, "It's been a while, I thought that maybe we could meet for lunch somewhere".

"_You buyin'?"_

"Oh for christ…yes I'm buying. How 'bout we meet at that café, Lunatic Fringe, over on West 47th, round 1-ish?"

"_Yeah, I know da place, see ya round 1 then."_

Bulma hoped to get to the café first; she also hoped that Launch hadn't sneezed since this morning. While bluenette Launch was less destructive in public, she tended to be a bit of an airhead. Why couldn't she have at least one normal friend?

She pulled up to the curb in front of the eclectic little café, got out and encapsulated her car. Looking around she saw no sign of her blonde friend. As she turned to go inside, she heard the unmistakable sound of Launch's S-cargo. Bulma breathed a sigh of relief when she noticed that her friend was still blonde. When was the last time she was grateful to see _this_ Launch? Times _must_ be desperate!

"Hey, girlie, howzit goin?"

They embraced in a hug, just like normal girlfriends.

"It's good to see you Launch, you look fantastic".

"Yeah, don't I though. Like your hair longer, makes you look less bitchie".

They strolled arm in arm into the café, Bulma gave her name to the hostess and they were seated immediately. Sometimes money really had its privileges.

A perky waitress came up to the table ready to accept orders. Launch peered across the table over the top of her menu. "You payin? Good, then gimme a cheese steak Panini and a cuppa chickn-n- rice stew."

"I'll have the curry chicken salad, and can you bring us a pitcher of mango iced tea? Thanks".

"So, whats up?"

"What, can't I invite a friend out for lunch?"

"Not outa the blue after we ain't seen each other for what, six months".

"Ah hell, sometimes I just need a girl to talk to, don't you? And with the lives we've lead, who else is going to believe the shit we've seen?"

"True dat"

The waitress sat two glasses and the yummiest smelling pitcher of mango tea between them. Bulma poured a glass for both.

"So, business been bad?" Bulma thought is best to let Launch talk about herself for a bit.

"Na, well, dunno really. Been tryin to keep clean eva since everybody got wished back. Tien don't like me stealin". She paused for a sip. "Yeah, so did you know that I become anotha person when I sneeze?"

Bulma stared wide eyed, "Well, uh, we weren't sure how to tell you. Who finally did?"

"Chaoutzu, he's teachin me some zen meditation thingy to control myself, don't know if it's workin or not. Wada bout you, fuckin Vegeta yet?"

Bulma choked on a mango piece. "What makes you think that I'd go there?"

"Cause he's fuckin hot! Dat ass! Besides, broke up wit Yamcha, bout time by the way, not getin back wit him, there had to be a reason, gorgeous alien prince sweatin all over your house, sounds like a reason to me". She winked. "Don't worry, secret's safe".

"Well," she blushed the slightest bit, "I was, but not anymore". She filled Launch in on all the gory details, up to and including this morning when she stubbed her toe on his shit in her lab.

"No doubt, he's a prick, but we're attracted to that kinda thing ain't we?"

"Yeah, why is that?"

"Cause they're fuckin hot! So, can he deliva?"

Bulma smirked, "Like FedEx baby, but no express service is available".

The two women giggled like teenagers as their lunches were placed before them. They ate and talked like two normal women who just happened to have had a hand in saving the world a time or two. Bulma complained about not being ready for the responsibilities of an international corporation, and Launch detailed her troubles with trying to find a "real" job.

"So, Kame house fallen into the ocean witout me?"

"HA, no, though I think that Roshi and Krillin may have actually lost an ounce or two".

"What's Yamcha think bout this Vegeta thing?"

"He knows we've gotten together, I think that he's trying to be happy for me. I haven't told him about the me kicking him out thing".

Bulma stared at her plate mindlessly kicking a grape around with her fork. Out of the blue, an idea came to her. She pulled out her phone and hit a single button, holding the phone to her ear. Launch was startled by the suddenness of her action. After a silent half minute, Bulma began speaking.

"Hey, how's it going…yeah been awhile…oh nothing new" Launch looked suspiciously at Bulma's vague answer. "I thought maybe, if you weren't doing anything…" Launch tilted her head, was Bulma really doing this? "Oh, that'd be great!...Right, 8:30…K, see you then".

Launch shook her head, "This isn't gonna end well".

* * *

**Next time on Dragon Ball… Do friends **_**really**_** help?**


	2. Chapter 2

**I don't own Dragon Ball(Z) and I am not making money off of this.**

**If it wasn't apparent in chapter 1, **_**the sections written in italics are in the past**_**.**

* * *

The dark, cold winter evening had taken hold all around her. Bulma sat in the driver's seat of her hover car, but she did little to actually operate it. The on board navigation was set to the coordinates which had been texted to her earlier in the day. She was appreciating the comfort of the darkness around her. Off to the southwest, the direction that she was headed, she could see the lights of a small coastal town below the cliffs. These quaint fishing villages nestled on the outskirts of West City always held fond memories for her.

As a child, she and her parents would holiday down here. Somewhere among the lights was a small piece of property that belonged to her father and his long lost twin brother. Daddy kept a permanent capsule house there. As she grew into more materialistic pursuits, she and her mom would take day trips to some of the many boutiques that dotted those coastline towns. Good times-simple, normal times.

She felt relieved to be away from home. For as big as the Capsule compound was, the walls seemed claustrophobic, of late. Her father had been uncharacteristically lethargic ever since…the other night. He seemed bored, almost like he was searching for a challenge. And her mom, that was a whole other set of crazy. She just kept cooking! For reasons that she was sure only her mother would know, the kitchen window had been open; in the middle of winter, all night, with that damned Christmas candle glowing, 24/7. Things were unquestionably out of sorts with her parents.

How could she have allowed them to become so wrapped up in Vegeta? Why did they feel so much more strongly for him than they did for Yamcha? She knew her dad was never too taken with the bandit; they never had too much in common. On the other hand, there were times when she would go into Daddy's lab for something and find him and Vegeta deep in conversation. Sometimes she felt like she was intruding on her own father. Vegeta had even helped Daddy develop one of the most advanced propulsion systems ever created. Bulma knew it wouldn't take much for her mom to wrap herself around Vegeta. Hell, he had testicles; ergo, Mom would be enamored with him; just like Yamcha, and Goku, and Krillin, and Piccolo, and the pool boy. Of course, Mom's fancy with Piccolo could have had something to do with the oh-so-cute, not yet released, pair of Jimmy Choo's he "clothes beamed" for her to wear to her book club meeting.

Hmm, Piccolo was a fine specimen of…hermaphrodite. He didn't have testicles, but if she remembered invertebrate biology from college Bio335, slug sex was certainly, ehem, interesting. He thought of himself as male, didn't he, would it matter? She mentally shook herself. Stop that train of thought right there! Not another alien. "I am through dating outside my species." she firmly stated to empty air.

The car banked right and turned off the highway. The change in scenery made Bulma take note of her surroundings. The area was familiar to her. There used to be a diner on the other side of the ridge where she and her parents had eaten a few times. That diner was demolished in a fire some years ago, though. There wasn't much else down this road but a small marina.

As the lights of the marina crept closer, Bulma realized there was only one sailboat docked in the water. Internal alarms blared throughout her head. He couldn't, he wouldn't…does he really? No, no, no, no! This was not why she called him.

The hover car stopped and a monotone CG voice announced 'You have arrived at your destination'

"Yeah, no shit." Bulma was reluctant to get out of the car. She sighed in defeat when she saw Yamcha's smiling face greet her from the deck of the boat.

Bulma got out and encapsulated the car. She walked with little enthusiasm toward the pier, while Yamcha jumped off the boat onto the pier and practically skipped toward her. This was bad, very bad. It seemed like a hundred years ago, now, but when the two young lovers decided to give up their innocence to one another, they rented a sail boat and spent two days exploring the coast, and each other. The last thing Bulma wanted from this date was to dig up the past.

"Hey, Babe! Come on aboard."

"Where did you get this, Yamcha?"

"Guy on the team. Crush Jones, you remember him, lead the league in home runs last season."

"Yeah, right. Look Yamcha, I didn't-"

"Wait, B. Before you say anything, come with me. He's got those propane heaters on the deck. They're awesome and toasty too."

They boarded the 58 foot Beneteau _Oceanus_; immediately, Bulma was impressed. This wasn't just a sailboat, it was a yacht. This thing screamed "class". Yamcha was right; the heaters gave the aft cockpit, with its upholstered loungers, a warm cozy feel. What was he up to?

"I've got wine and snacks below deck. Here, sit. It's been so long since we had time to talk, just us."

She wanted to interrupt, say something to steer the conversation away from where she felt it was headed.

Yamcha looked deep into her eyes, while warming both her hands within his. "Babe, look, I knew you were going to be calling me. I know that you and Jackass had another fight."

She stared wide eyed, awaiting an explanation.

"Your mom called me last night, hysterical, wanting _me_ to go find him and bring him home. As if! Like, I could drag him back without being, you know, dead again."

He looked up to the mast, reminiscing. "You remember the last time we were on a sail boat? It was great wasn't it?"

She smiled, "Yeah, it really was." She hated to admit to herself, it was probably the only memory of their relationship she held onto fondly.

He came back to reality, and let go of her hands. "Babe, I asked you to come here to prove something to you. See, that weekend was really the only good memory I have of us. We never have had any fun, happy memories. In ten years, this was it. I mean, I will always love you, but, I don't know, I'm not _in_ love with you. I don't think ever was. We really can't screw up the friendship that we have now by trying that all over again."

Bulma noticed he had stopped looking at her and was examining the decking. His tone was whiney, and, truly, how many more clichés could he pack into an explanation?

"After I died, well, I really started to evaluate my life. I don't know how those other guys did it, they've all died and everything is back to normal when they come back. I can't do that. I have another chance and I'm gonna do it right.

"See, babe, half the time I don't understand a word you say. You too smart for me! It broke my heart when you split up with me, and then when I saw you with Arrogant-Ass, I was so angry with you. But then I realized that you and me weren't, I don't know, compatible.

"Anyway, when your mom called, I kinda figured that you'd be calling me soon. It's what we do, right; when things go to shit, we fall back on each other?"

"That's what friends do, Yamcha." She was biting her tongue to keep from ripping his head off right now. Who the absolute fuck did he think he was? Where did "_ballsie_ Yamcha" come from?

In all honesty, she didn't know why she called him. Maybe he was right, maybe she was just falling back on comfort. She didn't expect to fall into bed again, did she? No, really, honestly, what she wanted an ego boost, and she trusted good ole stupid, malleable Yamcha to give it to her. He was supposed to tell her that she was his girl, and he'd always love her no matter how she treated him or what kind of bitch she was. Why did he happen to grow a pair right this minute?

"We good, B?" He pleaded.

"Of course we're good, Yamcha. Really, I just needed to get out of the house for a little while." She lied.

"Oh, shit; well, now I feel stupid. I'm gonna run down and get the food and all before I embarrass myself even more."

Yamcha went below for the snacks and wine. Bulma gathered herself and scanned the setting. Here she was, alone, sitting in a deckchair on a borrowed boat in the middle of winter. How had this happened, Bulma Brief, genius beauty just got….owned?

* * *

_After three weeks of prodding, she finally convinced Vegeta to go to the Westowne carnival with her. She promised food while there, and to leave him alone for a week afterwards. _

"_Where do you think you're going?" He stopped at the landing of the first floor stairs and turned to confront her, hot on his heels. _

"_Well you can't go to a carnival in training shorts; I was going to help you get ready"_

"_Woman, I've been dressing myself rather successfully for many years now, I think I am capable"_

_Bulma paced nervously in the great room, waiting; worrying over what he would decide to wear. For all she knew, Vegeta would come down in his ripped, blood-stained armor._

_When he finally presented himself, she was stunned. Vegeta stood before her wearing a pair of dark brown cargo shorts, a thin white hoodie (Ralph Lauren, she believed) with five top buttons left casually unbuttoned, and crisp white canvas boat shoes. He dressed simple, yet oozed class. The open collar showed off his muscular chest and neck. The shorts gently hugged all of his assets, and displayed his beautifully toned…legs._

"_I'm driving." He declared, as the exited the building and strolled toward the garage._

"_The hell. You don't have a car. I'm driving."_

_He produced a mid-sized capsule, flat black in color. Bulma had never seen one like that. When they reached the parking lot he depressed the button, de-capsulating his newest, and only possession._

"_Oh… My… Fucking…Kami! Where the hell did you get this?"_

"_I believe you call them car dealerships; however, your father arranged for the purchase." Bulma stared in disbelief, mouth gaping at the brand new, flat black Lamborghini Aventador sitting on the blacktop in front of her. _

"_Wha-how?"_

"_The new propulsion system I assisted the old man with, he filed the patent in my name. You are, no doubt, aware of the profit your company gained from the advance orders that were placed. You'll be wise in the future to refrain from accusing me of freeloading." He acknowledged all of this smoothly while lifting the passenger door for a bewildered Bulma. _

_Having closed the door for Bulma, Vegeta walked around to the other side and eased into the driver's seat with the grace of a practiced F1 driver. He reached down and pushed the red button on the center console, coaxing the V-12 to life. _

"_Do you even know how to drive this?" Bulma asked trying to stifle her growing panic._

"_Woman, I've operated more complex vehicles than this all throughout the universe."_

_As he took off from the Capsule Corp. lot, Bulma had a sudden panic. "Do you even have a license?"_

"_A what?" He smiled as he shifted hard through the gears on the steering wheel. Bulma had to admit, he handled the machine well. There apparently was nothing sexier than watching a man with experience, drive a high performance vehicle. Come to think of it had she ever seen Yamcha drive? Hold on, did Vegeta just open the car door for her back in the garage?_

_Bulma was lost in meditation on the sheer sexiness of a man who could drive almost as well as she could, and how well he dressed, and the fact that he could be a gentleman when he wanted. She noticed that the car stopped in the dirt lot of the carnival grounds._

"_Wait, how did you know where we were going?"_

_He tapped a screen on the center console. "GPS." He said simply, admonishing her foolishness. _

_Vegeta encapsulated the 550,000 zeni vehicle, much to the disappointment of several carnival goers. When they passed through the gate, Bulma was struck with the sights and sounds that reminded her of a long ago past, when her favorite uncle would bring her to the carnival. She could tell Vegeta was uncomfortable. He appeared to be examining his surroundings like he was surveying a battlefield. His attention turned abruptly to the sound of rapid gunfire. _

"_What is this game?"_

"_Oh, that one is hard; you have to shoot the red star out of the paper target." _

_Vegeta smugly laid a bill on the counter for the attendant, picked up the antiquated gun, and aimed. The weapon felt well used, but comfortable in his grip. The star on paper target was only three paces from him. This would be too easy. He squeezed the trigger and fired. The pellets left the chamber with surprising speed, and ran out too fast. _

_The attendant pulled the target free. "Awww, sorry dude, still some red left."_

"_What! Let me see that." Sure enough, there was a small bit of red in the upper left. _

"_Another." He slapped another bill on the counter. Aiming more diligently this time, he fired. _

"_Oops, even more red this time."_

"_Son of a…one more time."_

_Bulma huffed. They'd be here for hours at this rate. "Vegeta, they fix these things so you lose."_

_With his fourth attempt the warrior realized that the chamber had been bored out so that the pellets became bogged down as they left the barrel. That made the delivery less precise. On his seventh attempt, he realized that the site was set too far to the right. _

"_Once more."_

"_Vegeta, you've spent like ten zenni already! I can buy a quality stuffed animal for less than this." Bulma protested._

_He slapped one last bill on the counter, defiantly, "Once More."_

_When the chamber was spent, Vegeta stepped back proudly, "Well, bring it here."_

"_Damn man, never seen this before."_

_The attendant held up the paper with a perfect circle cut from the center, no red in sight._

"_Pick your spoils, woman."_

_While Bulma studied the prize shelves, Vegeta noticed a boy, perhaps in his teens, attempting to win a prize for the girl with him. _

_He leaned into the boy, "Aim to the left and slightly high. You won't have enough ammunition, so don't concentrate on the star, remove the field around it."_

"_Cool, thanks man."_

_Bulma waited for him with her newly won stuffed monkey. "That was awfully nice of you Vegeta." She teased. On cue they both turned to hear a teenage girl squeal with delight._

"_Make no mistake, woman. They fuck with me, I will fuck with them."_

"_Always the romantic." She laughed._

_They continued to walk the games midway. Bulma took in everything around her, but mostly, her attention was focused on the person to her right. He actually seemed to be at ease. If he weren't a planet purging alien with a hair-trigger temper, this could be considered a normal date. _

"_We have to leave." Vegeta declared, abruptly. _

"_Wait, what? Why?" that came from nowhere. _

_He leaned in and whispered, "Woman, I have to pee."_

"_There are restrooms right over there." She whispered back._

_The haughty prince looked offended."Woman, I will not line up in front of a trough like a pack animal."_

"_Please, Vegeta, you grew up a soldier in a galactic army, I'm sure you had less privacy. I will not _even_ fall for that. Just go, pee, I'll wait here. Besides, you'll be in and out; there's never a line for the men's room."_

_She waited by the prize roulette table while he went off to the empty men's room. While ruminating on how unfair it was for the line to be so short, she heard someone call her name. _

"_Bulma? Bulma Brief?"_

_She turned, "Kai! How are you? Wow, what's it been two years?"_

_She remembered Kai, alright. Tall, blond, tan. The whole package belonged to a man who spent more time surfing than he did in the lab. He interned for her father before he began his PhD research. If she wasn't wasting her time trying to be faithful to Yamcha when she and Kai were working together, she would have pursued him enthusiastically. _

_She was so involved in catching up with Kai, she didn't notice Vegeta return. Bulma heard a loud, rather obtrusive, cough behind her. _

"_Oh, Kai, this is Vegeta. He's-"_

"_Dude, _Prince_ Vegeta! Man, you developed the new Saiya-gen propulsion system. That's revolutionary." Kai turned fan-boy and eagerly stuck out his hand._

_Vegeta accepted the offered hand, and looked at Bulma with a smugness only the Prince of all Saiyans could muster. Bulma wasn't sure what Vegeta's ulterior motives were, he was loath to share contact with humans. She was skeptical, but pleased he wasn't embarrassing her. _

_Kai and Vegeta looked at one another with solemn regard, before releasing their handshake. Bulma wasn't sure, but she thought she had just witnessed a mental pissing match; over her. As if Kai understood the mental meaning behind the Guy Code, he resumed his normal banter. _

"_My buddies are waiting for me, I'd love to buy you a beer sometime, pick your brain and all. Genius!" he mumbled, as he walked away. "It was great seeing you again Bulma", he called as an afterthought. _

_As he walked away, Bulma couldn't resist prodding her would be date. "Seems you're amassing a fan club."_

"_I think he was more interested in having you in his, what do you call it, 'cheering section'."_

"_Why Vegeta, are you jealous?" She threw him a coy little smile in response to his glare. _

_They continued on through the games section in silence. She watched him give a glance toward each game sizing up his chance of victory. He stopped at the basketball toss game and stared for a bit. Bulma felt something grasp her pinky finger. She took in a deep breath, willing herself to calm as she felt the heat building in her core and radiating throughout her body. Casually, she looked down to her right and noticed that he had wrapped his left pinky finger around her right. They stood there like that was the most natural of actions. Having decided this game wasn't worth his time, he continued on, still holding her finger with his. _

_The two walked "pinky-in-pinky" down the aisle of games. Bulma's heart raced. It wasn't lost on her that this was a form of public affection. This was probably the closest thing to holding hands they would ever experience. The whole action seemed uniquely them. She felt like a foolish, blushing, giddy teenager again._

"_Woman, where is this food you promised? I can smell it all around me."_

_Bulma spied the stand selling her most favorite of carnival treats. "Let's go over there, these are the best!" She pulled him by his pinky toward the funnel cake stand. _

"_What the hell is 'funnel cake'?"_

"_I don't know why it's called a funnel cake but Oooh, its sooo good."_

"_What topping you want?" the overheated, overweight, woman inside the little trailer growled. _

_Vegeta looked to Bulma for an explanation, "They're topped with powdered sugar, or fruit, like apple, blueberry, or cherry."_

_He gave Bulma an incredulous look. "Give me one of each topping you have, and two iced teas." she ordered, giving the woman a twenty._

"_Ha! Boyfriend's got an appetite! Better watch it sweetie, I married a guy with an appetite, look at me now!" She laughed at her own joke, and slid the order across the small counter._

_They sat down with their treats. Bulma picking at her simple plane cake; while Vegeta devoured the apple topped cake then began on the blueberry one._

"_Woman, I should command your mother to make these." _

"_I don't know if mom has the machine to make them. Besides, if I ate these every day, I wouldn't fit in the GSR to fix it when you destroy it." She laughed. _

"_If you got off your lazy ass and trained, you wouldn't have to starve yourself. You're too thin as it is." he teased._

_She grinned sarcastically at the off-handed compliment. "Wow Vegeta, twice in one day, careful I might get the idea you tolerate me." Bulma jabbed. _

_Vegeta looked up at her from his blueberry treat, through the thickest, longest eyelashes she'd ever seen. How had she never noticed them before? Time stopped and without a sound, he made one simple gesture. She felt her whole body prickle, and she was sure he noticed her full body blush. Bulma didn't care at that moment, though. Everything seemed right with the world because, Vegeta, Prince of all Saiyans, destroyer of worlds, and bringer of death, just winked at her. _

* * *

It was late afternoon, and a figure was flying west, in the direction of Mt. Paozu. Vegeta hadn't trained adequately since he left the compound. The capsule Doc gave him was serviceable. The odd blonde, true to her word, left a capsule of food for him every evening on the sill of the kitchen window, next to an artificial candle. Last night, when he landed in the yard, he noticed the woman's energy was absent from the compound. Less than two days and she had run back to the weakling. Foolish, spineless, prick. He shouldn't even care where she was. Bitch deserved the worthless fighter; she couldn't handle someone that was her equal. Did he really consider the woman his equal? Where the hell did that come from?

He was desperate for decent training. That desperation saw him consume his pride and seek out the only two beings on this despicable dirt mound that could give him any challenge. Even if he hadn't learned how to sense the energies, he would have been able to navigate to the sound of Kakarott's woman wailing from the mountain. She was bitching about Kakarott's spawn training too much and needing more education. If the woman could look past her personal prejudices, she would see that Vegeta was fully trained both mentally and physically. She made the boy weak.

Vegeta touched down lightly amidst the one woman riot going on in the side yard of the Son residence. "Hey, Vegeta, felt you coming." Goku smiled a foolish greeting. One day he would fear the Saiyan prince.

Chichi faced the prince hands on hips. "No, absolutely not, you are not staying here. Just because Bulma kicked you out, don't come here looking for hospitality."

"What are talking about Cheech?" Goku looked between his wife and prince, and then sent a panicked stare toward Piccolo, who shrugged.

"I heard from Oolong, who heard Yamcha tell Krillin, that Bulma kicked this freeloader out night-before-last."

"Is that true Vegeta?" Goku looked at his price, his face a sad puppy pout. Vegeta returned only a half nod as a response.

"See, no-you're not staying here!" Chichi wagged her finger in Vegeta's direction like a doughty librarian scolding over excessive noise.

Goku grew uncharacteristically angry. "Chichi, that's not very nice. If Vegeta needs someplace to stay, we will not turn him away." His wife opened her mouth to argue. "No Chichi. What would you say if your father needed a place to stay, and one of his people turned him away? Vegeta is _my_ prince, just as much as your father is your king. I will not disrespect him like that. That's final."

Chichi sighed, embarrassed. "Sorry, Vegeta. I forget that you _are_ a prince. You are welcome here." Her apology was reluctant, he could tell.

"I have lodging, and abundant food. I require nothing further, except for some decent training." Vegeta's voice was deep and regal, true to the calling that was denied him.

"Come on Gohan, you need to do some studying before supper is ready." Gohan shuffled reluctantly behind his mother into the small home.

Vegeta was growing agitated, bordering on livid. He needed to blow off this excess energy, not stand here idly and talk.

Goku sat under a tree. "Why don't you two start, I want to see how strong Vegeta is now."

The two alien warriors faced off against each other in battle form. Simultaneously taking off into the air and releasing barrages of Ki blasts, as a test of power. Landing back on ground, Piccolo attacked first delivering a kick to the prince's chin. Vegeta countered by phasing behind his friend and delivering a left to his back, then an imperceptible round house to his face.

The pair took their fight to the air. Piccolo launched a volley of well choreographed kicks at supersonic speeds. Vegeta concentrated his senses on the attacks, narrowly evading most of them. Vegeta went on the offensive, flying straight up into the air, then phasing in front of Piccolo to deliver a kick to the green man's midsection sending him flying backward. The prince phased behind him, landing a left fist to Piccolo's kidney-area.

Piccolo recovered immediately and directed his kick toward Vegeta. "What did you do?"

Vegeta grunted. "I haven't the slightest idea. We argued, like always. She was trying to control me again. I won't allow it." Vegeta blocked the kick with his left arm, then phased behind Piccolo to land a punch in his right side. As Piccolo was sorting his bearings, Vegeta slammed his left elbow down between his opponent's shoulder blades, slamming him into the ground below.

Goku chuckled, he sensed Vegeta's anger through a testy Ki, and he really didn't want to be the first to take him on. "Gee Vegeta; Bulma wouldn't kick you out for nothing"

Vegeta touched to the ground beside Goku's tree. "You claim to be a brother to her, Kakarott; you've never known her act irrational?"

Piccolo stood and brushed the dirt from his hands as he walked toward them. "She won't forget whatever it was. You'd better damn site find out what you did, because five years from now she'll bring it up again. Women never forget, they harbor these deep seated memories that will recall everything you've ever done wrong. Love, relationships, shit, it's too much work for too little reward."

"I don't know, Piccolo. Chichi doesn't seem like too much work."

Piccolo and Vegeta looked at each other in disbelief, and then turned to Goku. "Ah, to live in vacuous oblivion." Vegeta ridiculed, shaking his head.

Piccolo continued his sermon. "Love isn't worth it; you have to navigate through someone else's feelings. Sharing and trusting, only to have it never be enough, one stupid thing, and that's it, over. See, this is why I just fuck them, nothing serious, nothing life changing."

Goku tilted his head to the side, considering. "You can do that, Piccolo?"

Vegeta laughed knowingly at his friend. Piccolo promptly responded with a middle finger directed to the shorter Saiyan.

"Where the fuck did you people get the idea that I can't have sex? I'm not asexual, I'm a hermaphrodite! I've got _twice_ as many parts as you, or something like that.

"_As I was saying_, relationships are all about someone trying to control you. Women try all sorts of methods to control their men, be it food or sex. Bulma just happens to be more intelligent than most. Fortunately, she's less powerful than others." He spoke the last sentence quietly, reflectively.

Piccolo shook whatever thought was passing through his mind, and continued. "They'll flirt; they'll try to make you jealous. They will even leave you if you if there's something better out there. You have to cuff a bitch; otherwise, she'll walk all over you."

"Cuff what?" Goku asked, simply.

"It's a colloquialism meaning to keep your woman under control and close to you" Vegeta clarified Piccolo's derisive slang.

"Wow Piccolo. That's not nice." Goku admonished.

Piccolo leaned against a nearby tree. "I'm not a nice guy." He sounded unapologetic.

Vegeta smirked, "Who was she?"

"How do you know there was a 'she'? I'm a hermaphrodite, remember."

"Your attitude seems awfully misogynistic to be directed toward a male."

"Misa what?" Goku scrunched up his face as if it hurt his brain too much to process the word.

"Misogyny, hatred or hostility toward women." Vegeta instructed.

"Wow Vegeta. How do you know that?"

"How long have you been speaking this language, idiot? Whatever then, I'm just a fucking genius." Vegeta waved his hand, dismissing Goku's stupidity.

"Like, I've never heard _that_ before." Goku mumbled. He smiled and shifted his gaze toward his green friend. "Wow, so 'Piccolo had a girlfriend'." Goku sang.

"Ha." Vegeta actually allowed himself a fairly small but still genuine laugh.

"You both can just kiss the fattest part of my perfect green ass! Are we going to spar here or what?" Piccolo stood upright and strolled into the clearing.

Chichi called from the house. "Goku, supper's ready." When the warrior didn't immediately respond, "GOKU GET IN HERE RIGHT NOW OR I'M GIVING ALL THIS FOOD TO VEGETA!"

"Gee, guys. We better get in there. Coming, Piccolo?" Goku sighed in defeat, and began walking to the house.

"In a minute." Piccolo turned to Vegeta, "Are you going to stay on Earth?"

"I will become Legendary, and I will defeat Kakarott. I will also defeat those worthless androids".

Piccolo shook his head and smirked. "Same tired mantra, Vegeta. You have some hard decisions to make. There are real and definitive allowances that you have to make in a relationship. If you choose to stay here, I suggest that you make those allowances. She's a tough lady; I can't see the two of you living on the same planet. There's an Earth saying 'you've made your bed, now lie in it'."

"You're telling me that if I don't debase myself and crawl back to her, I might as well leave this planet." Piccolo gave a slight tilt of the head in affirmation. Goku looked toward Piccolo, sadly. The two warriors then left the prince to go inside for supper.

Piccolo stopped, and turned to regard Vegeta. "If you do go, leave me the Lambo, K.", he followed Goku into the house.

Vegeta looked to the sky, "I have nothing here, just as I have nothing out there. I am a Saiyan, I can survive anywhere."

* * *

**Next time on Dragon Ball… A voice of reason.**


	3. Chapter 3

**I don't own Dragon Ball(Z) and I am not making money off of this.**

The final chapter. This whole story developed somewhat off-the-cuff, and evolved as I wrote. This was something of an experiment in improvisation. I tried to take the characters in my own little direction, some might not approve. Having just watched Battle of Gods (WooHoo by the way) it's clear that "cannon" is relative in the Dragon Ball universe. Let me know what you think, thanks for reading.

* * *

Heavy, slate gray clouds hung over the canyon. The snowfall had tapered off to only a few lingering stray flurries. It was a heavy wet snow that plopped and collected in dense little masses throughout the crevices. This had by no means been a pretty snow.

Vegeta sat in one of the four cheap plastic lawn chairs he found stacked in the utility closet of the house. Next to him sat two clear glass bottles, one empty, one mostly full; both were labeled _Patron. _He held a plastic cup full of clear liquid, and stared out into noting. He didn't seem to acknowledge Piccolo touching down on a boulder to his left.

"How much have you had? You didn't even sense I was near." Piccolo mocked as he jumped from the boulder.

"Not enough, besides, there's nothing on this shit farm that could harm me"

Piccolo chuckled and lifted the next chair off the stack. "When was the last time you felt that safe?" He sat the chair down next to the bottles, and settled nervously into the small chair.

Vegeta shifted uncomfortably, "What more could you tell me? Haven't you preached enough?"

"I might have come across as a dick yesterday, on all counts."

Vegeta straightened and sobered enough to pay attention.

"What happened, really, with you and Bulma?" He didn't look at Vegeta when he spoke; rather he focused on a flock of crows searching the snow for carrion.

"I honestly don't know. She wants something from me which I am unable to provide."

"What do you _think_ she wants?"

"How the fuck-I don't know. She wants feely, and mushy, we don't do that. Saiyan mates share a mental bond, apparently, so we don't _have_ to show affection. It evolved because we are a warrior race; we aren't capable of '_expressed_ _feelings_', not even Kakarott, and he was raised to think he was human." Vegeta turned to his friend in a huff; they were looking at each other now.

"Have you tried to form the bond?"

"Not yet. She's mentally strong enough, just not disciplined."

Piccolo shrugged, "Maybe you should tell her about it. She's a scientist; she'd get off on that kind of thing."

They both searched the canyon for their own answers. Vegeta thought it would be a good time to broach the question that had been festering in his mind.

"So really, who was she?"

Piccolo opened his palm to the sky and a green light glowed from his hand. When the glow faded, a glass tumbler was in its place. He filled the glass with tequila and downed a long shot. Letting out a deep breath, he began his story.

"She was…everything. She found me when I was about two months old. For some reason I grew abnormally fast. You remember Dende? He's the same age as Gohan; when she found me, I was as matured then, as he is now. I grew at astonishing rates, hurt like a mother-fucker. By the time I was a year old I was the size of a human twelve year old; by two, I was a full grown adult. Somewhere in there our relationship became physical. She helped me discover myself, except for the part about being an alien not a demon. She was harsh and unforgiving, she held me to an incredibly high standard. She was the strongest being I had ever known, and by all the gods of creation she was the most beautiful; and she hated herself. "

A suddenly sober Vegeta drank in his words. "What did _you_ do?"

"We decided it would be beneficial for both of our training to separate for about six months. She began training with a Shaolin master named Xi. He apparently taught her how to accept herself for who she was, and she gained all kinds of insight and power. When we met again, after one of the most incredible sexual encounters I have ever, or will ever have, she told me she loved me. I… said some pretty depraved shit. Being the prideful bitch she was, she said some vile shit back. To make a complicated story short: the verbal fight became physical, and well, things didn't end-healthy. We both parted ways pretty messed up, physically and emotionally.

"The take home here is I'll never be able to make it right, Vegeta. It's a regret I'll have for the rest of my life. I just don't want you to make the same mistakes I did."

"What do I do, Junior, I'm not human?"

"I'm not saying you have to be, but if I had the chance to do it over again, I'd compromise. I'd listen to her, you know, communicate; we should have dealt with things instead of beating the not-so-holy shit out of one another. We could have found some middle ground. Maybe found out what we both wanted, maybe found out that I _wasn't_ a demon."

Piccolo lifted his glass in a toast to the setting sun. "Love is a bitch to navigate. I feel for Bulma, you know, it's not easy when your heart's been claimed by someone."

He filled his glass again. "You're still leaving me the Lambo, right?"

"If I thought you could fit more than half of you in there, I would."

Vegeta saw the lost longing in his friends face. He felt that same loss more than he'd like to admit. He filled his cup, and they both settled into a comfortable friendly silence, despite the colossal discomfort of their chairs.

* * *

_The room was bathed in a soft, warm glow. The woman had insisted on candles burning, everywhere. Vegeta had been in her room before, but it hadn't looked like this. Had she cleaned? The blinds were drawn to keep out the light from the compound. The room felt safe and enclosed. _

_As the door closed behind him, Bulma turned and gave him and inviting smile. She raised her hand toward him in an open gesture. Confused, he reached for her hand. When they touched, a feeling awoke within Vegeta. He felt; when had he ever felt this warmth before? It was familiar but distant. The warrior in him urged him to be on guard, the man in him was pushing him to let go. Locked within his internal battle, he didn't notice Bulma gently tug him toward her bed. _

_They stopped, just short of the side of the bed, facing each other. His body was drawn to her, almost magnetic. Eyes dug deep into each other, how could they be so blue? Never had he been with a female so matched to his form. Their height, perfect for looking directly into her eyes. Her mouth, just the right level for…the man in him won the battle, he dipped ever so slightly and tasted her lips. Soft, warm, caressing his mouth, welcoming him._

_His hands roamed her body while his mouth explored her neck. He reached behind her back and began to unbutton the tiny pearl buttons on her dress. One by one, the anticipation and tension grew in him. Why did she wear this garment of torture? When he finally unfastened the last button the tiny lightweight blue dress floated to the carpet, leaving her gloriously bare before him. Had she been wearing nothing but this slip of fabric all day, vile tempting vixen? He grinned at his thought. _

_His hands drifted down her body, coming to rest on her hips. Deeply kissing her, his hands caressed her form. He stilled feeling a foreign object just above her hip bone. "What is this?"_

"_Mmm, oh, that's my contraceptive patch."_

_He pulled his lips from her neck just a bit, "Smart woman. Effective?"_

"_The only thing that's fully effective is complete abstinence, but this hasn't failed me yet"._

"_Abstinence, we can't have that can we? Luckily, I'm a man of risk"._

_A deep throaty laugh left her like a breath. She hooked her thumbs under the waist of his training shorts and began to pull down. The warrior screamed a warning in his mind, he was being invaded. He forced himself past, he was going to give the woman this power, he needed to. _

_He leaned into her using his weight to urge her onto her bed. The mauve comforter was soft and rich; this wasn't what usually covered her bed. Had she planned this, had she made a sanctuary for them? Before the warrior could protest, the man began to trail light butterfly kisses down her neck, through the valley between her breasts, and across her stomach. He had never sworn fealty to any deity, but this was the closest thing to worship he had ever shown. _

_He rose on one elbow to look into her eyes, study her face, ask her permission. He took his women, why was he compelled to ask this one? Her glazed eyes warm with passion nodded in acceptance. He hesitated, grateful. Before he filled her, he tasted her again. Her skin tasted like a fruit that he couldn't name, sweet, salty, dangerous to him. _

_When he entered, she enveloped him, welcomed him. They moved in harmony, their breathing flowed with the synchrony of a perfectly timed symphony. He felt her contract around him; he heard her moans of pleasure. This is what it felt like; he had never given a female pleasure before. It was intoxicating. The warrior and the man put aside their differences; Vegeta used every bit of his warrior discipline to control his release until he felt the woman reach hers. She arched her back pressing further into him; she threw her head back and sang his name. His discipline broke and he released into her. _

_He pulled out of her when he felt the pulsating subside, and leaned over her with his weight resting on his elbows. Staring deeply, seriously into her eyes, he searched for signs of regret. As if sensing his thoughts, she smiled, sweetly and honestly. The warmth inside of him almost overtook his body, and he had to fight to control the surging Ki from enveloping them both. He quickly rolled over onto his back and began a meditative breathing that he learned long ago when his emotions got out of control. _

_Bulma rolled over and draped her arm and leg over his body. The warrior screamed at him to leave her room, he was in risky territory. The man anchored him firmly to the mattress. . He looked to his right and noticed the idiotic stuffed monkey sitting on the nightstand next to the bed, foolish sentimental woman. His beautiful partner hummed a single note and nestled into his chest. Was this peace? Would it be so bad just tonight, to know peace?_

"_Mmmm, can you get those candles for me, lover?" Obediently he lifted his hand, the one that wasn't wrapped around her perfection, and sent a waft of air through her room purging the flames._

* * *

The hover car touched down lightly to the ground on the west side of Mt. Paozu. The setting sun created a warm orange glow that cast a halo around the quaint Son cottage. Goku was chopping wood off by the fence when she encapsulated her car.

"Hey girl, what brings you around? Haven't seen much of you lately" He brushed saw dust off his hands and chest, then bent down to hug his oldest friend.

"Yeah, well, you don't come around either!" she squeezed Goku, wondering where the years had gone. "Anyway, I just needed to talk to a friend, one that won't judge me".

He looked down at her with a smile. "Won't judge you, or tell you what you want to hear?"

"Isn't that the same thing?" She chuckled.

"Come on in B, Chichi took Gohan over to Fire Mountain to visit her dad, so this place is kinda dead." Bulma sat at the kitchen table. Goku took two glasses out of a cabinet, and a pitcher of lemonade out of the fridge, pouring them each a glass. When had he become so domesticated? "So what's wrong that you can't find anybody to talk to?"

She took a tentative sip, "Well I don't know if you're gonna like this, but in the span of about a month, Vegeta and I got together, hooked up, and well, I kicked him out".

He sat the pitcher on the table in between them. Goku raised his eyebrows and gave her a devilish look, quite unlike him. "By 'hooked up' you mean…"

"Yeah, I mean _that_. What?"

He laughed. "Nothin', I'm just kidding. I knew about you two anyway. Why would you think I wouldn't be happy about that?" He sat back casually, and took a long drink.

"Well the whole 'he's evil' thing and all."

Goku looked almost hurt. "Aww, Bulma, you should know me better than that. Besides, I'm the one who didn't kill him, remember? Heck, Krillin still thinks I'm nuts for that. He's not a half bad guy-once you get passed the ego, and the temper; oh, and the attitude, and that pride thing."

"Way to defend him, kid." Bulma breathed an un-ladylike snort. She finally relaxed in the kitchen chair. Up to this point she had been sitting nervously on the edge of the seat. She could always count on Goku to disarm her.

"Hey you know I've told people almost the same things about you, too." He lifted his glass in a toast.

"Yeah, guess I can be a bit bitchie." She obediently clinked his glass with hers.

"I mean really, Bulma, haven't you always said you deserved a handsome prince?"

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck sting with irritation. "Well he wasn't supposed to be such a dick!"

Goku was one of the few people unfazed by her outbursts. "Life's no fairytale; at least he's really a prince. What do you want me to say, you're right and he's wrong? I know you B, him too. You're probably both wrong, and both right. You're both so stuck into your own pride and egos that you don't listen to each other." Goku leveled an almost serious gaze. "What did he do, Bulma?"

"It's not just one thing Goku." She breathed a defeated sigh. "This wasn't how it was supposed to be. I get tired Goku. He's exhausting. I always have to stay one step ahead of him."

Goku smiled, and looked at her knowingly. "So he challenges you. I'm surprised you have a problem with that. Sheesh, Bulma, maybe you're just not used to someone who's just as smart as you.

"Wait...um." Goku was struck with an idea. He sat up straighter, took a deep breath, and searched his mind. "You have some hard decisions to make." He recited. "There are real and definitive allowances that you have to make in a relationship." He grinned proud of his own insight.

Bulma studied her oldest friend, skeptically. "You didn't come up with that on your own, did you?"

"No, heh, Piccolo told Vegeta that same thing yesterday." He poured himself another glass. "Well whatever you do, do it soon. I get the feeling Vegeta is getting ready to go." He looked into his glass nonchalantly.

"Go, you mean leave, back to space!" Bulma felt herself panic. Wait, she should be happy about this, right? After all, that was the last thing she told him.

"Yeah, and seriously, you gotta stop him. I mean, yeah, the androids and all, but there's this thing with Piccolo. He had a girlfriend. Yeah, and I _know_ he's not gonna tell me about her. I think he'll tell Vegeta, though." Goku was leaning forward, he was serious.

"So basically, you want me to grovel to Vegeta so you can get the dirt on Piccolo."

"Well, you make it sound bad. And no, that's not the only reason. You're not groveling either. You might be surprised what you find if you just talk to him. He did come to _us_. That's gotta tell you something, right?

"You know, Vegeta said almost the same thing. Why would you both think of it as groveling?" He left the question to hang in the air. Bulma caught the meaning behind the question though. They both needed to learn how to loosen the reins on their pride, at least with each other.

Goku looked up and regarded Bulma with a sullen expression. "What do you want Bulma? I guess _that_ is what you need to decide for yourself. Do you want to try to be with a normal guy, 'cause, you're not gonna find one around us. I mean, half the guys you know are aliens!"

"Normal…." That was a concept she had given a lot of consideration to of late. "Hey, do you know where he is?"

"Sure, I do." Truth told, for the first time in three days, he didn't feel like Vegeta's power was too explosive to approach. Maybe this _would_ be a good time for an intervention, either that, or, he and Piccolo were so tanked that he finally mellowed out.

"Let's go." Bulma said, grabbing her bag.

* * *

_Goddamm her. He would not stand for this kind of disrespect. How dare she violate the trust that he had allowed her! Vegeta was waiting in Bulma's room. He felt her enter the compound a little while ago, and headed straight to confront her._

_When she opened the door, he attacked. "What the fuck is this goddamned limiter that you installed on my GSR?"_

"_The GSR belongs to me and the limiter is in place because your stubborn ass won't listen to me and keep the gravity to 450G," she countered._

"_You will not suppress me woman, do you think that you can keep me from surpassing Kakarott? That's what you want isn't it, keep me as your lap dog?"_

"_That's right Vegeta you got me, I want you to be my subservient monkey, repress your power and keep you as my sex slave."_

_Her words cut him. Vegeta went to a place he hadn't been for at least a year now. Everything; the nascent trust, the forgotten honor, the diminished pride, everything he gave her was gone, with those words. She stepped over a line, now she was going to see just who she was fucking with._

_He launched himself toward her, his left hand grabbing her neck but his right hand held her waist supporting her weight. He wanted to frighten her not harm her. "You don't realize how lucky you are, woman. I have taken great joy in the past killing for a lesser insult."_

_He was distracted by her smell, her aura. Everything about her right now filled him with desire. Why? He should hate her completely for the disrespect she has shown him. He wanted her but he detested her at the same time. _

_From nowhere he felt it, the cheapest shot an opponent could land; one he had used himself, often. His agonizing howl was immediate, his grip loosened, and she dropped to the carpet. How could he have disgraced himself like this? _

_He shook with rage. Vegeta recognized the feeling, he was about to harm this creature. He summoned enough sense to realize he needed to get her as far from him as possible, immediately. Deftly, he lifted her into the air and threw her across the room landing on the bed. _

_He stood seething, watching her backup to the furthest corner of the bed. Fear, a level of fear he hadn't sensed on her since Namek. Tears of dread and horror began to flow freely, and she looked around in a panic for something to defend herself with. Suddenly, he felt something inside himself, akin to fear; but from her. He couldn't comprehend it. Was this what humans called empathy? For possibly the first time in his life, he regretted his actions; and this confused him more than any other feeling he'd ever known._

_From nowhere, he felt a lamp fly toward him. Vegeta snapped from his reverie in enough time to avoid it and the other random objects that were hurdling in his direction. _

"_Get out, get out of my house, my life, and if you really want to do me a favor, get the hell off my planet! I've had it Vegeta, I'm sick of the emptiness, the disrespect, the THREATS, no more!" She knelt defiantly in the middle of the bed. "I've cried my last tear for you! You wanted tough ass warrior then fine; tough ass warrior bitch doesn't give a shit anymore!"_

_Where the fuck did this come from? His pride took over, "Get this straight woman; I'm not your pussy ass weakling. If I leave this place you will never see me again."_

"_Do you see me stopping you, dick?"_

_With finality, he backed out of her room and stalked down the hall to his own quarters._

* * *

The light from the full moon was almost blinding him as it reflected off of the water. Vegeta missed his tail the most on nights like this. He ticked that off as one more regret in his life. It felt awfully cliché to be walking along a beach, but he had nowhere else to go and he had to get out of that dreary canyon. He stood, facing the moon wishing he could feel some of that old power. Kakarott had offered him refuge; he'd have to be more desperate than he was right now to absorb that kind of blow to his pride. It gave his ego a boost, though when the third class over ruled his woman for the sake of his prince. Sometimes there still was a Saiyan in there.

He wasn't sure what to make of Piccolo's conversation, either one of them. He had never had a friend, but he was fairly sure one's friend was supposed to talk one out of doing stupid things. This one drank his tequila and left him with more questions. The burden after all was his own, as much as he tried to blame the woman. Kakarott would always be here on this mudball. He could always return after he ascended to claim his rightful place in history. The decision to leave was becoming more favored; he sure as hell wasn't crawling back to her like her weakling had done. Vegeta's mind was a hodgepodge of ill formed thoughts. He sensed a change in himself, in the past this kind of madness would have lead to widespread destruction.

The unmistakable feeling of his rival sparked a second before he actually appeared. Vegeta turned to confront Goku but stopped cold when he saw Goku's passenger.

Bulma hadn't learned to sense Ki, but she was sure she could feel Vegeta's. She forced herself to look at him. He was so beautiful, back lit by the moon, and she couldn't help but notice he wore human clothes. Tight low riding jeans, dark green silk shirt, and the leather jacket, all of which she bought him. He was so fun to dress.

"Well guys, my work here is done. Heh Heh, I think you two can handle things from here". Goku studied his two stubborn friends. When he first heard about their falling out, he worried about the future and Trunks. Seeing them here, now, he was sure they were going to be just fine. So, Piccolo was right after all, Vegeta wasn't going anywhere. He zipped home before Chichi and Gohan and came home to find him gone…again.

Even for the waves crashing in the surf, a tense silence hung in the air. She was so appealing, the whisper of a breeze feathering the ends of her hair. Times like these, when her mouth was quiet and she looked unsure of herself, he hated to admit to himself that she was one of the most important factors in his life.

"My life has been, vacant, without your presence."

She smiled wistfully, "I missed you too."

She had never seen his features so open. His scowl was softened; there was a hint of melancholy in his face. I frightened her to think she could make him so vulnerable. She suddenly was overwhelmed with this responsibility. She was beginning to understand his fears.

His mind whirled, he should say something, and he knew she expected him to say something, nothing came out. He was a man of action not words. Piccolo was right; this love thing was too difficult to navigate. Why was he thinking of the Namek right now, he needed to focus on Bulma. And why did she look at him like that?

He had relied on instinct his whole life, and for the most part, it had served him. Instinct told him one thing; he reached his hand out to her in an open gesture.

She stared stunned for what felt like an eternity. Was he really offering his hand to her? Cautiously she took his hand, not trusting what he might do. He pulled Bulma toward him, turned her in his embrace, and the pair walked arm in arm down the empty beach, like two _normal_ lovers.

**END**


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